Bad Things
by The Grinning Psychopath
Summary: 11 years, since Bella divorced Edward. 11 years since he has last seen his beloved daughter Renesmee, now with her on the way, how will she have changed? how will she react to his current decrepit state? but more importantly how will she have changed?


_**Bad Things, by The Grinning Psychopath, Co-written with OverzealousGuineapig, inspired by the song Bad things, by Jace Everett, and song Cain, by Tiamat. PS special note at the end for all who have read this fic, both for those who loved and adored it, and those who hated it more than they even knew they possibly could hate a fic.  
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I was in the middle of teasing an extremely pretty, though with cheaply dyed black hair, goth girl to slow wonderful orgasm, with my long agile tongue, and my fingers, slowly, gently teasing her clit, and inner folds, licked and sucking on her, till she was a wet whimpering heap on my bed, and she was moaning my name. and i grinned and was about to press the attack, and give her one last tortuous suck, when the phone rang.

we both growled a little, and i sighed, and went over to the phone, "Edward Cullen speaking, how can i help you?" i said in my most cynical world weary tone of voice, and heard the voice of the devil herself. "Edward, its time you come by the airport and say your goodbye's with our daughter, i'm flying in today."

"Well hey there Edward, long time no fuck, hey hows it going?" i mimed her voice badly, my tone mocking and sarcastic. "Just be there at 6." she growled, obviously unhappy at having to speak with me, and hung up.

.

The goth girl looked at me, her eyes suddenly seeming sad, "its time to go isn't it?" she asked sadly. i nodded. she looked about ready to cry, and then she slid out her silver box, slid out a patch and placed it over the vein in her neck, and in a minute her eyes were dark, and any emotions behind her eyes were hidden behind a haze of whatever drug she'd decided to dose herself with this night, which could be anything from LSD to Heroin, straight down to fucking nicotine. she smiled, her crimson lips parting in a darkly beautiful sensual smile. "I guess we should make the best of what time we have left." she murmured her voice low and sensual, and i felt my cock harden back up to its full length of 11 inches, "she's expecting us at the airport in an hour." i murmured back to her, even as i began kissing her full lovely lips which were perfect for blowjobs.

.

"So," she giggled and ran one slender pale hand through my thick bronze locks, "Its not like you were exactly on time when i came along." she gasped softly as i moved one hand down to the wet cleft between her legs, and inserted one thumb into the slick hot folds of her cunt. "Good point." i grinned, before i took Renesmee roughly by her cheaply dyed black locks, and kissed her long and hard on the lips, effectively preventing her from going down, to where i knew her mouth was about to go, and placed my free hand on her hip, my hand there was kind, and gentle, and she was in charge.

.

At first she growled, at having been prevented from giving into her nearly insatiable desire to torture me further with her lips and tongue, and then she giggled delightedly, as she remembered that she had other ways to torture me with her sexual arts and skills, than to blow me. and i resigned myself to the fact that i was going to be given one of the rides of my life... without cumming... for a while at least. and thought of how it had all come about 6 weeks ago.

.

VVV

**(The Broken Nail Tavern, 6 weeks ago)**

She just came into the bar I own; and was currently lounging on one of the stools at the bar drinking lots and lots of my Tequila, popping a mostly recreational Vicodin every once in a while.

I'd been scamming the pills for the past few years, using the excuse of back pain from when a gang banger—wasted on PCP—had shot me with a pathetically weak .38 revolver. The home-made bullet, only half packed with gun powder and the rest with sand or dirt, had lodged close to my spine. Thankfully, too close to operate. Giving me the perfect reason for a standing prescription.

Of course, I had known she was coming. I just didn't think it'd be this soon.

v v v

My ex-wife, Bella, had cheated on me with one Jacob Black; who had subsequently been cheated on, on their wedding day with my cousin Felix Volturi. Last I heard she and him were off somewhere in Mexico, Cancun I think, partying and orgying their heads off. I'd always known there was a unique little connection between the two of them.

I'd called Jacob later to gloat that I had at least managed to marry her _before _she cheated on me no more than two years later. He'd hung up on me, possibly crying. Serves him right the bastard.

But anyway, I'd moved here to Bon Temps, Louisiana; set myself up with this productive little bar; and now, fourteen years later, there I was, celebrating my thirty-sixth birthday with bad Tequila and a rancid lime on the side of my glass that would cause me hallucinations later, with only slightly thinning hair—mostly around the hairline—that I tried not to be too touchy about.

Just as I managed to psyche myself up to place the lime wedge in my mouth a lithely muscular girl, about sixteen years old, wearing a thin red tank top, black mini skirt, and black Doc Martins with fucking _knee socks _came strolling casually into the bar like we'd really believe she was old enough to be out of school. Let alone in a bar.

She instantly had the attention of everyone in the building, especially mine.

She had a shock of jet black hair that fell in oiled ringlets and loose curls down to the bottom of her shoulder blades, her skin was chalk white—even paler than fashion dictated you be in this day and gothic age—and she had a dark red smile painted onto her face, designed to conceal her true emotions from one and all.

Heavy mascara highlighted her over bright, Jade green eyes.

Eyes with the same specks of dark gold in them as my own. Hells bells, she even had the same unnaturally dilated pupils, indicating that she was on something.

She stood at a taller than average height of five foot ten. Her face too was long and thin, though extremely pretty with a faint silverish, slightly shimmering glow to her pale features. Again, just as my own, only more delicately proportioned and even more beautiful.

My eyes travelled down her body and lingered over her breasts. Though they weren't really small like Bella's had been, and weren't large like my cousin Rosalie's were, they were quite perfect. Perky, round and perfect.

She simply stood there in the open doorway, looking darkly delicate like a hot house flower rudely torn from its usual but unnatural habitat.

Her gaze roamed across the bar, looking every single customer up and down like she was looking for something... some_one_ I realized with a start. She was looking for someone who resembled herself, or perhaps the description she'd received from her mother, possibly one told to her by a stranger she questioned on the way here.

Her eyes locked with mine and she smiled. I gulped nervously, taking a hasty swig of my drink before dry swallowing a couple of Percocet's—given to me by a doctor friend who owed me a few favors, again I had _officially _been given them for my back. The pain really had amped up recently thanks to yet another mini infection that would most likely clear up in a few days; so I didn't bother with getting an examination and he didn't give a damn either after having prescribed them so often after the _accident._

Her smile grew even wider when she spotted me, then began strolling over confidently with her long, lean muscles rolling and flexing with each movement of her legs and resulting sway of her slender hips.

***Cue Jace Everett - Bad Things (True Bloods theme song)***

_'When you came in the air went up.'_

"You must be my daddy," she said softly, eyeing me up and down. "Mother told me about you."

I felt a painful, sick little twinge around my stomach that radiated directly up to my heart. I missed Bella, despite all she had done to me.

_'Heart sick and eyes filled up blue.'_

"Yeah, that's right," I said softly, staring at her in shock and amazement. "So how've you been?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood with small talk, but really, what was there to be said?

"_Hey there, daughter. Your mother divorced me when you were about two years old; and now here you are over a decade later, all grown up with a nice set of breasts on you, here to see your father who's stoned out of his mind on a sickening and slightly hallucinogenic concoction of cheap Tequila, rotting citrus fruit, Hydrocodone (Vicodin) and Oxycodone (Percocet). Pleased you made the trip?_"

Note to self: Sarcasm is the ugly cousin of Misery and Horny.

"You didn't pick me up at the airport like you said you would over the phone," she said in a quietly disappointed tone while she stared at my bronze-colored hair in fascination. I slumped as she continued to eye the slightly receding hairline of the otherwise thick and constantly untameable _dishevelled locks _that covered my head. I tried not to be too touchy about the subject but it irked me that it was noticeable to my own daughter of all people, who was supposed to see past those little details. Fuck! She wasn't even supposed to notice those details period!

I frowned at her, not just because of the hairline staring contest. "But you weren't supposed to be coming until Sunday." I reminded her, only slurring the words a little bit.

She grinned in an amused and slightly condescending manner. "Yes, I was. And I did. It's Monday now, Father." she teased lightly, reaching down into her bag which I hadn't noticed before; but now I did it had my attention entirely.

It was a big, purple, velvety looking thing with a ton of little pockets, zippers and stuff—and many, _many _little silver chains, ornate crosses and metal skulls attached over it.

My baby girl was into GOTH!

I blinked rapidly and watched as she withdrew a six inch long, four inch wide silver coffin shaped pill box, with an interesting little pot thing shaped into the bottom of it. opened up a compartment and took out a patch. She placed the patch over the vein in her neck then took out a tube and quickly tapped the white substance in it onto the bottom pot thing i'd noticed earlier of the pill box before snorting it back up in one fluid motion.

The reaction was immediate, she shuddered and goose bumps appeared on her lovely, creamy skin. Her nipples hardened under the tank top and stood out quite obviously. Everything around me droned out as my focus fixated on the material brushing over the peaks with every breath she made.

_Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, she's my fucking daughter for god's sake! Keep it in your fucking pants!_

She opened her eyes after another moment, saw me looking at her breasts, and beamed smugly. "Wanna feel?" she asked, slow and sensuous. She reached up and gave her breasts a light jiggle, yes they were large enough to jiggle just a bit. God who was this woman?

_'I don't know you think you are, but before the night is through...'_

"They're very real, I assure you." she said, her voice and smile was dark and wicked. Tempting and beautiful but poisonous.

I twisted my thigh muscle but thanks to the booze and pain killers I really couldn't feel it. And God I needed something to take my focus off the things rushing through my head, the positions my mind—as creative as it had ever been—was putting her in.

_'I wanna do bad things with you!'_

I took her to my room in the back of the bar—where I generally slept—which thankfully not only had a _fully _functioning bed, but a couch as well that, to be honest, was just a bit more comfortable than the actual bed. So I was more than happy to let her take the bed and leave myself the couch for tonight.

I left her there to settle herself in while her mother ran around the world with her rich boyfriend's; and I served drink and other things along-side my waitresses until nine pm when I started closing the bar.

:-:-:-:

When I went back to the room it was dimly lit. As I opened the door my eyes caught a flash of naked skin in the moonlight. I gaped, quietly aghast as I saw my own daughter, Renesmee Carlie Cullen, riding a man I knew _very _well.

Samuel Granton Kincaid, my cook!

I'd wondered where he'd gone off to...

I heard their moans and whispered, quickly ducking down low behind the couch so they wouldn't spot me. I sat, quietly outraged, as I saw the two fuck like rabbits on my bed. MY BED!

Samuel Kincaid was a big man. A very, very, big, athletic man! He was over six feet tall, way over it, but not quite seven foot. His arms and legs were made up of long, wiry muscles that wrapped around like whipcord, dark coffee colored skin, the infamous shaved head sported by most black men, a long angular face with a harshly square chin and he had a deep gravelly voice.

He wasn't exactly handsome but his height and musculature ensured that he was well laid; as most people assumed—probably correctly—that he was as well hung as a horse.

And from Renesmee's loud moans, my guess was that the rumors of why he was often referred to as _The Black Stallion _were dead on.

Part of me knew I should do something to stop this... But another much larger part of me thought: _What the hell? It's been a while since I saw a good live porn show..._

At that, the much smaller part of me recoiled in horror and disgust, while the other part made me raise my head to look on as Renesmee got her breasts stroked, squeezed and fondled by Kincaid—moonlight shining off their flesh as they rolled around on the bed, fucking like there was no tomorrow.

The small bit of me that was now pretty much permanently traumatized now screamed hysterically. "_THE MOON SHOULD NOT BE BLACK!_"

While the bigger part said: "_Whoo ee, Kincaid wasn't kidding when he said he was the bigger man in all of this_." I mean I'm big, very big, but good God! Kincaid could have starred in a fucking porn show as a regular character with that dick.

My back gave a painful twinge as I remained in this unnatural, uncomfortably crouch, I absently popped a Vicodin into my mouth and continued to watch the show.

oOoOoOo

After Kincaid had left my room in a fearful hurry—scared I would catch the bastard in the room with my daughter—I had fallen asleep, curled up on my side. He had been in such a hurry he'd not seen me reclined against the wall behind the couch after having watched the festivities.

Now, an unknown amount of time later, I found myself woken up by two things. One was an inquisitive little mussing of my auburn locks, and two was the far more noticeable itching/burning pain around the center of my back where the bullet was lodged in.

I let out a low groan of pain as the muscles in my aching back spasmed, causing a large amount of agony to course through my body. I sat bolt upright to straighten it, the painful but necessary movement caused another even louder groan. I reached blindly for one of the many water bottles I kept lying around to moisten my dry throat before I could safely swallow some pills.

I felt the cool plastic of a water bottle shoved into my hand and I twisted the lid off then drank from it greedily. I felt around for my pills until I came across the familiar and comforting circular shapes of Percocet's pushed into my waiting hand. I swallowed them eagerly, and then cried out when the muscles in my back spasmed again.

Two warm, feminine hands pressed against both side of my face and my eyes flung wide open in shock. I found myself staring into the same shade of emerald green as my own.

"Shhh, father," she cooed softly. "Shhh, it'll be all right soon enough. Just hang on and tell me where the pain is."

I gestured weakly towards my back and then felt her small hands leave my face and go down under my arms and around me. I realized what she intended to do and struggled to my feet before she could hurt herself trying to pull my full weight off the floor. She kept her arms around me as a supportive frame and led me to the bed.

Memories of what had taken place in that bed last night made their way to the surface of my mind. I thought about resisting but then my back gave another awful spasm that left me whimpering in pain and completely unable to fight off her manoeuvres of my position.

_God! When are the damn pills gonna kick in?_

She sat me down on the edge of the bed then I felt her hands go to the top button of my shirt. With surprising speed and dexterity, she undid all of the buttons then a mere moment later she had pushed the shirt off my shoulders and discarded it off the end of the bed.

Slowly and gently, she laid me back and rolled me over until I was face down.

I heard her suck in a deep breath. "Jesus, Father," she whispered. I felt her hands glide around the area where the bullet had entered and I whimpered again pathetically—it was extremely tender. "What happened? You have some major scarring here from what looks like a bullet wound," She ran a finger over the scar off to the left where the bullet had pierced my skin before lodging in my spine. "And some poorly done surgery. Did they actually use medical sutures or a two dollar sewing kit? It's pretty badly infected; can't you feel the puss-filled lesions?" Her barely detectable touching brushed over the long surgery scar carefully, following it from the middle of my shoulder blades to the small of my back.

"It's a bullet wound," I groaned again as the agony flared with another spasm. The pain dulled again and after a deep breath I continued. "It was too close to my spine to remove so they decided to leave it there and hope that it eventually works itself out. It's been giving me hell ever since." I paused again to clench my teeth through another radiating burn. At this moment I couldn't decide whether last night's show was worth this morning's pain. "The doctors said that even if it does work itself out that there'd probably be some lasting pain from the irreversible damage that's already been done."

She said something that sounded very uncomplimentary in what I vaguely recognized as French. Things were beginning to get hazy at last, the pain that was travelling all the way down to my knee caps started to return to the source and die down a little as it went.

The pills were finally working!

"Well it looks like the bullet is indeed working itself out, just a bit, and it's causing an infection thanks to the backyard clinic you must have gone to. We've gotta get you to a hospital soon. Are the pills working their magic yet?"

It took me a second to realize what she'd just asked and yet another to realize that I should answer her. The pills were indeed working. I gave her a thumbs up and began giggling—strong, semi-synthetic opioids on an empty stomach when you've just woken up tend to do that to you.

She began massaging from the outside towards my spine (and the pain) slowly, taking the time to ease the tenderness in each area before moving closer to the source.

After ten or so minutes her thumbs started to overlap, having finally worked the muscle spasms from the tissue around my spine and the pain away overall. My back was pleasantly numb now thanks to the combination of Vicodin and a very dedicated deep tissue massage.

"Are you all right now, father?" Renesmee inquired. "The medicine should be at its peak."

I hummed agreeably into the mattress, semi-conscious as I enjoyed being pain-free for the first time in months.

She began working higher and higher up my back towards my shoulders, scooting up as she went until she was straddling my lower back. I tried to ignore the feel of the smooth legs brushing against the sides of my back. Tried hard. But it became pointless when her hands reached my shoulders and curved around them which then made her need to lean further forward, bringing the damp heat of her vagina down to grind against my skin.

My mouth cracked open and I gasped a little into the musty old inner-spring mattress. If only I were lying on my back then... _Stop! Bad thoughts! Bad thoughts! _Good _thoughts._ I moaned under my breath while my dick grew hard between me and the mattress.

"Am I using too much pressure?" she asked innocently.

I shook my head and tried to subtly adjust my weight off my erection.

'_I don't know who you think you are, but before the night is through..._'

She pressed her elbows down in the middle of my shoulder blades and slid them up firmly towards my neck. The damp cleft between her legs mashed down onto my back, leaving a damp patch when she pulled back up and continued working my muscles with her thumbs.

'_I wanna do bad things with you!_'

"Feeling better now?" she questioned.

"Mmmm hmmm," I hummed. "Much."

"Let's get you to the hospital then." She decided and climbed off me carefully so as not to jar my back again.

"Okay, just give me a minute," I moved to put my hands under myself to push up but the slight motion alerted me to the full extent of my rather big problem. "Five. Give me five minutes."

oOoOoOo

The trip took around six hours all in all. First there was getting to the hospital. Then of course the seemingly mandatory waiting—during which time, Renesmee pulled her silver pillbox out to inject herself from three syringes, all different colored liquids; and had pressed yet another three patched onto her neck.

_Heh, like father like daughter!_ I thought woozily to myself as I watched her.

The doctor—when he finally got around to gracing us with his presence—examined me, shoved me into one of those horrible robe things, shoved me even harder into an MRI then instructed me to stay still while he looked over the images for several minutes.

(**MRI machines are magnetic, hence the M, but bullets are lead which is a non-magnetic heavy metal so it doesn't attract to the machine.**)

When it was all over with, the doctor came back to inform me that the bullet had actually shifted from its original position, but that it still lay too close to my spine to operate on. He told me to come back in around six months for some more tests, and to take it easy for the next three weeks.

After prescribing some antibiotics for the infection he lead me to the door and virtually kicked my ass from the E.R.

_The people's health care system my ass!_

And so for the next couple of weeks I did indeed take it easy.

I let my wonderful daughter take care of just about everything physical that needed doing and she managed my usual job as bartender. She gave out the pay checks and pretty much everything else.

Strangely though, she had refrained from informing both the staff and the customers that she was my daughter. Instead manufacturing some story about being my cousin, or my cousin's friend... something along those lines.

I was too buzzed out of my head for the first week and a half to take much notice, let alone care.

oOoOoOo

When it came to week two, I got a bit cocky.

I looked down at the amber bottle containing my beloved Percocet's as it lay in my hand. The pain had diminished since the initial infection, so much so that I was confident enough in my will power to do this. I then glanced over to the dresser where I knew a bottle of much weaker Vicodin sat in one of my shoes.

Being stoned out of my head on prescription pain killers, while it did seem like an outstanding idea, wasn't something I relished doing for the next week. After all, I had a bar to run and there was only so much my junkie of a daughter could do.

Junkie...

_Jesus!_

I swore under my breath as I made my way slowly to the dresser and removed the bottle of Vicodin ES from the joggers it was positioned in. I popped two pills and cemented my resolve for the cravings that would start once my body realized that this was all that was coming for at least a few hours.

There were other tasks at hand besides beating a budding Hydrocodone addiction.

I had to talk to my daughter. About but not limited to her standing affair with my cook. I knew they'd continued sleeping together—having heard some extremely loud moans one night just after closing from the wall the kitchen shared with the back room—and that worried me. She was only supposed to stay here six weeks, and then Bella was going to come straight back here and take her to Cancun or wherever it was she was living now.

It wouldn't do for Renesmee to end up getting attached to the cook. (No pun intended.)

.

* * *

_**2 weeks ago.**_

v v v

I sat the bar again drinking from a glass of cheap Tequila, without the lime this time after having dreamt that I was a withered old man in a wheel chair with all my hair gone, and with various bits of me falling off and having a beautiful young Goth girl who I really wanted to fuck caring for me all the while.

_Fuck!_ I shuddered again at the memory and drank more of the bad Tequila, to chase down a few more Vicodin, God those were some great drugs.

I heard the song change again, from Cain, to Bad Things, I liked that song. I glimpsed movement out of the corner of my eye and saw Renesmee stand up from her stool at the other end of the bar and start walking towards me, her stride slow and graceful, the lean dancer-type muscles in her long shapely legs coiling and releasing with every purposefully seductive movement.

.

She reached me and took my hand off the counter, giving me a saucy smile as she led me out to the dance floor. Before I knew it we were dancing to the song and she was grinding her taut, youthful body against me. We slowed after a minute as the song dictated when it too began losing pace.

I kept my hands at a safe point between her shoulders and the small of her back. No one here knew who she was and she took advantage of that, pressing her firm breasts against my chest as she ground her crotch on my thigh slowly.

She slipped her leg around mine and pressed her pelvis right against me. "Renesmee!" I choked in a desperate whisper. My semi pressed against her firmly but she didn't react in the slightest.

"What?" she asked innocently, looking up to my eyes with the exact same shade of green I saw in the mirror. The dark lipstick that covered her mouth was—as always—stopping me from discovering any true emotions under her icy exterior.

"It's just an innocent little dance between father and daughter," She continued as if her words were even remotely honest. She spun around and placed my hands on her hips, letting me feel every tortuously erotic sway of her body. "A little daddy daughter time." she insisted. Her back arched and her round ass collided with my cock, knocking it to a greater state of consciousness. She rocked herself from side to side until the split second before I lost control of my voice and groaned from the sensation then straightened up and twirled back to face me.

.

Her slender arms slid around my neck for balance as she straddled my right leg and circled her hips against mine—her left leg grazing the bulge in my pants with her circuitous motion.

For a long moment her eyes lingered on mine, playfulness and confidence obvious. I realized in that instant that my baby girl was a practiced manipulator, she knew what she was doing to me; and she was enjoying it.

She blinked slowly, looking up at me from under her heavy eyelids, pupils dilated to cover more than half her iris. Her hands threaded into my hair quickly as she pushed herself up and connected her lips firmly with mine, invading my mouth with her tongue before drawing my bottom lip into her mouth.

I groaned into her as she released me and probed back in again until the tip of her tongue met mine and begun massaging it. Her flavor filled my tastebuds, Tequila, salty pretzels and something bittersweet.

She pulled away with a loud smack of our lips but thankfully no one seemed to notice.

_Fuck, what a great mouth she has! _I marveled.

"Just a little daddy daughter kiss," she giggled and twisted around in my arms, rolling her hips lower and lower along my legs until her ass almost hit the floor, and then she straightened her legs and slid right back up. I noticed the top of a navy blue thong peeking over the top of her dark mini skirt for just a moment before she spun around again and pressed her breasts back into me.

.

"And maybe a little daddy daughter horsie ride, too." she murmured, her hand coming up between us to accidentally stroke my now hard member through my jeans. My breath caught in my throat, her fingertips dug into the fabric and tightly stoked the base of my cock.

"Someone cou—" My words were cut off when her nails scratched across my lower stomach and burrowed down under the waist band of my pants.

"They could," she agreed quietly, toying with the highest strands of trimmed pubic hair. Her tongue flicked out and wet her lips quickly; her eyes glanced over to the inconspicuous, dark hallway behind the bar.

Without another word she removed her hand from my pants and took mine from her hip, leading me away from the patrons of the bar who I noticed looked deflated as we walked past now the show was over.

Renesmee paused in the darkness of the narrow hallway; pressed herself against the wall and pulled me right against her. "What could bring us closer," The hand holding mine moved between her legs, she twisted my wrist around until my palm was pressed on the inside of her thigh and put her own hand over the top. "Than a little," She let out a soft whimper as my hand got higher towards the heated flesh at the apex of her toned legs. "One on one," she whispered, panting. The heel of my hand connected with her damp panties and we both groaned softly. "Uh, bonding?" She exhaled sharply.

The wetness allowed my fingers to effortlessly slide along her swollen folds and back to the exposed, velvety skin of her ass.

.

She pressed her face into my shoulder and moaned as I stroked my fingers over the sensitive flesh. "Mmmm, daddy!" she moaned then sunk her teeth into my shoulder through the black button up I favored for work.

She took a half step to the right, moving away from my hand, and pulled me into a rough kiss as we burst into the back room in a stumbling hurry. Kissing, sucking and clumsily grasping at each other's bodies.

I kicked the door shut then slammed her back against it and palmed the exquisitely sized globes of firm flesh she'd been taunting me with all day. My thumb instantly found her hardened nipple and flicked over the bud—covered only by her shirt I discovered when no bra hindered the contact.

She hummed pleasurably into my mouth, teasing my lips with her soft tongue for a moment before I drew it into my mouth and suckled on the divine, sinful taste of my daughters flesh.

She placed her hands on my chest and pushed me backwards until my legs hit the side of the mattress and I fell down, breaking our lips apart for the first time in minutes.

Renesmee reached into the nightstand and took out the box of condoms she somehow knew I kept there. She examined the box, her eyebrow arching.

.

"Extra large, huh? Seriously, Dad," she smirked down at me, and then took a second look at the prominent bulge in the front of my jeans. She reached under the edge of her mini skirt and stroked herself lazily. "Maybe you are..." she amended herself.

Her lack of attention was maddening, and true to the song now playing in the bar on the other side of the wall the night wasn't even over yet and I wanted to do _so _many more deliciously bad things to her.

I stood back up and stepped around her; grabbed my jeans and roughly tore them from my body, kicking off my boots and socks along with them leaving my shirt for last. Much to my personal satisfaction, Renesmee's eyes widened in surprise as she got her first good, unhindered look at me.

She sat down slowly on the bed and stared at my whole, hard length for a good, long thirty seconds—massaging herself in earnest now. "Eleven inches..." she whispered.

I smirked, obviously the boys at her school weren't as well endowed as my cougar of an ex-wife had led me to believe.

Just as I was about to push Renesmee down and claim her as my own once and for all, she put her hands on my chest and stopped me. "Wait," she instructed quietly, she smiled up at my bemused expression with a wicked grin. "I've always wanted to try this, with a man whose dick was up to the feat." She giggled quickly, a little nervous, and took my member in her slight slender looking hands.

She angled me down towards her face then slowly but steadily fed the dark pink head into her mouth. She gave me a long, powerful suck then released it with a pop and began peppering my solid length with hot, wet kisses and caresses with her lips and tongue.

She followed the largest veins from the base to the tip, engulfing me in the hot wetness of her mouth each time before selecting another to kiss and suck her way along with her pouty lips and agile tongue.

.

I groaned, mussing up her inky curls and ringlets with my right hand, rubbing her back and shoulder with the left. She was _so _obviously experienced at this; so what could she have wanted to try out? I pondered this somewhere in the back of my mind as I indulged in the amazing pleasure she was inflicting on my helpless body.

She finished with the last line of almost painfully stimulating oral manipulations then began taking me deeper into her, further than before until my dick hit the back of her throat. She paused for a moment then exhaled and simultaneously pushed me further. I knew then what it was she was referring to—she had never taken a man into her through before.

I stroked her black curls away from her face, off her sweat dampened forehead. "Ren-nez... may!" I gasped hoarsely, having temporarily forgotten how to swallow. She paused with three quarters of my length in her mouth and glanced up at me. "You... you don't have to do this," I said softly, then felt her smile around me.

She quirked her eyebrow then rolled her jade green eyes, telling me she did and to shut the fuck up and let her do it.

So I let her, in case she decided to bite it off in the event of a _no_. Soon enough, amazingly, she managed to take every inch of me into her.

_God! How in the hell was she doing this? Hadn't she been informed of the words Gag and Reflex? _I wondered distantly, paying more attention to the feel of her throat muscles contracting and milking my cock. She pulled back for a quick breath then slid me right back down again, swallowing me deep before pulling back up.

"Better than I thought," she evaluated. "I figured it would kind of be like choking, but—with the right penis—it's sort of nice."

"You mean with daddy's penis?"

"Exactly." She grinned wickedly and stood up from the bed, stroking my shaft lazily while switching our positions. She released me then steadily pushed me down until I was on my back. She crawled back up to straddle my stomach the way I had fantasized about weeks ago during her massage.

.

And so we continued like that, dancing and kissing, not to mention fucking, for a while. i taught her tricks i had learned over the years, and she did to same for me, and good god, but i think she may have been the best fuck i'd ever had.

I showed her how gifted i was with my Tongue, and she commented on how she had probably inherited her abilities with her mouth from me. and then the day came... the day, the day when Isabella Swan came back, to take my daughter away.

.

vvv

**(Present time)**

I woke up with a small groan, and wondered idly, how much Vicodin i had left, i reached over to the night stand for the bottle of pills i knew lay there, and i shook the bottle, heard the rattle, and sighed. 8 pills remaining, not good. i sighed popped the cap, and shook out first one, then on the same old twinge in my back, and hunger i felt deep, deep inside my brain, for the semi synthetic opioids. i gazed at the pills for another long moment, before i popped them eagerly into my mouth, trapped one beneath my tongue, swallowed the other, and worked the pill out from beneath my tongue, and over to between my back molars and crunched down on it, and swallowed the resulting bitterness in my mouth, down my throat and into my stomach, where it would be metabolized by my liver, and part of it would be turned into Hydromorphone, an even more powerful opioid.

.

i looked down to the head of black inky curls and ringlets, and slowly withdrew the blanket from Renesmee's form, to uncover the rest of her slender body. Daughter dearest really had matured in my absence.

she stood an unusual height of 5'10, in her bare feet, she had a real hourglass figure which was deliciously girlish, small perky round breasts with pert little pink nipples, her legs were long slender graceful flexible, deliciously curvaceous pretty much everywhere there was to be curvaceous.

a part of me knew it was just the Vicodin and the tabs Renesmee had given to me, which i had slid onto my neck as i'd seen her do so many times before. that Renesmee was gone. but somehow i really just couldn't bring myself to care.

so i grinned down at the sleeping hallucination that was Renesmee Carlie Swan, and slid down her body, and proceeded to go down on her, while she slept... she gave some pretty realistic moans, and whimpers for a hallucination, but i'd had a long time to do things like that with Renesmee, and she had always given me the pleasure of hearing her cries... with enough time, and patience.. 4 weeks ago i'd had a real desire to change, to fix myself up, to get clean from the drugs... and now i was doing everything in my power to stay on the drugs.

.

cause with the drugs, came hallucinations, and with hallucinations the Antichrist incarnate came, with flowing black hair, a tiny red top, and fucking kneesocks... not to mention the wonderful green eyes.

.

vvv

.

**(2 days ago)**

**.**

We met up with Renesmee Carlie Swan's mother Isabella Swan, under the airplane, precisely a day late**. **Bella looked very, very far from pleased. when she raced over to hug our daughter, she shot me a glare that brought to mind that little old saying of, _If looks could kill_ "Oh honey," she cried "are you alright, was everything okay? was your father a gentleman what?"

.

Renesmee shook her head and grinned, one dark ringlet falling across her right eye, "Yes everything was fine mother, and yes father was a gentleman, and before you ask yes there were some interesting boys there," my heart gave a little twinge when she glanced over at me, and the grin turned coy and wicked, "and no i will not go into any details, just know that i now know a few things more things about.. you know, that i never possibly could have dreamed up even in my most... vivid dreams, things that aren't exactly legal in 6 states." she smirked, and i felt my cock twitch, but thankfully the 4 vicodins i took to get me extra relaxed and stuff, on the way over here, not only were making me feel slightly woozy, and definitely more than a little euphoric, seemed to be doing one of their dark works as narcotics, and preventing me from getting a full hardon, though that was not for lack of trying, on my cock's part. Renesmee really did have a nice set of lips on her.

.

"Well," Bella huffed jealous clear in her dark eyes which were strangely a deep golden instead of the brown that i remembered, i put the change in color down to either the dim light of the sun rising up from the horizon, or maybe contact lenses, and the Jealousy to having with little doubt been supplanted as favorite parent, "I guess you and your father are going to be wanting a little privacy, to say your goodbyes and stuff." she growled, and picked up Renesmee's deep purple bag, and walked over to chatter with the flight attendant at the ramp, of the private jet. Felix Volturi really did have a rich family didn't he, the prick. i mused idly.

.

"Well..." i said staring down at Renesmee, "So..." Renesmee said, staring up at me, with curious dark eyes, and the ever present smile painted onto her face in dark crimson lipstick which as it had many many times before prevented me from discovering any true emotions beneath that smile... i had a pretty heavy duty suspicion that my daughter was either a sociopath or a psychopath, A person with little to no empathy with other human beings, and generally with a virtual master's degree, at mimicking facial expressions, and other human emotions.

sometimes sociopaths and psychopaths had violent tenancies, sometimes they derived a perverse sorta satisfaction at the death and pain of their fellow human beings, and become one of those roaming serial killers you hear so much about and sometimes they just took they took a sick satisfaction at perverting and twisting others, and messing with their heads, and bending their wills around, so that they were subservient to the Psychopath or Sociopath, or grew attached addicted even to the psychopath or sociopath mentally emotionally... physically.

All these thoughts ran through my head, and i found that i... really just didn't give a damn, hadn't given a damn for what 11 years? no, i haven't given a damn about anything, not since Bella left me, taking my Renesmee with her, and warping her into this, this sorry demented freak of a clown.

I smiled at her, a not entirely fake smile, which wasn't hard to do, not with 4 Vicodin ES's clouding my reality, and making it just the slightest bit more bearable. she smiled back, or maybe she didn't it was hard to tell with that lipstick of hers. we hugged, and she slid up my body, and kissed me soundly on the lips, one last time for only god knows how long, and i felt a small metal box thing slid into my hand.

It was the silver pillbox, full of pills and tabs and patches of all shapes and sizes. i looked at her, and she smirked and said, "Something for you to remember me by Daaddy," she giggled, "don't worry i got plenty more where that comes from, and the box is replaceable, though this," she removed a small key from a silver chain i'd somehow missed earlier, slid it into the side of the pill box twisted, and the pill box opened wide just like a coffin,she then reached inside and removed a small dark purple flow thing, covered the stem was covered in small spikes and thorns just like a rose, and the petals were beautiful dark intricate things, that almost seemed to glow.

Her smile grew wider still, to reveal some of her perfect white teeth."This isn't so easily replaced, i have to wait for these babies to grow, in my little garden, takes them a whole year to fully mature." she flashed her teeth at me, and then as i watched her, she slid the flower to her face, and she breathed it in long and deep, and then she slid one petal to her mouth, took it between her teeth, and chewed thoughtfully, and almost immediately her eyes began darkening even further, and her pupils dilated till the green of her eyes was all but gone.

She grinned and then took the flower wholly into her mouth, and bit off the end, chewed it up closed her eyes in obvious rapture, and i saw beads of color flow up in her cheeks, and she and swallowed, "This one here," she nodded just a bit sadly at the stem in her hand, "was just a baby." she sighed and took the stem between her teeth as well and began chewing just as thoughtfully, she saw my shocked and horrified not to mention disgusted expression, and smirked, and a trickle of dark juice slid down from between her lips and down her chin... and i saw blood mixed in with it.

She removed the stem from her mouth, and giggled "But it was just so tasty you know, and besides it may not have been up to its full divine power, but it was still really, quite potent..."

I stared at her, unsure as to what what to say, in these circumstances, i mean that had obviously been some sort of narcotic, or something.. but what? i was about to ask her what it had been, but then Bella arrived, smiled tightly at me, and ushered Renesmee away. "Come along dear, uncle Felix and your dear cousin Alec have been missing you dreadfully, particularly Alec, you and him really are quite close aren't you?" Renesmee smiled up at her, "Yes yes were are Mother, me and Alec used to have sleep overs all the remember?"

Bella and Renesmee walked away, towards the ramp of the jet. Bella dressed in a long brown skirt, lovely shiny brown leather cowboy boots, and a brown blouse. and Renesmee dressed in her Doc Martens, black hip length stockings, a black miniskirt, and a tiny thin red top. Renesmee shot one last look back towards me, her dark jade eyes overbright, a small crimson smirk on her face, and she mouthed three words, three simple short words, full of promise, and seductive charm, even silent. that sent shivers down my spine. _"I'll be back._"

.

vvv

.

**(Present Time)**

**.**

So i lay here now, in bed thinking of Renesmee's dark green eyes, thinking of all the things me and her had done in this bed, thinking of my addiction to Vicodin, and her apparent addiction to every drug under the sun. fingering the silver coffin that had once contained the strange flower, and still contained about 20 patches and 12 pills, of varying shapes colors and sizes, and types.

i removed one little green tablet from the box, that looked very much like a skittle, and i didn't need to be told what it was strangely, somehow i knew that it was a tablet of Morphine, i gazed at it thoughtfully at the end of my finger, and then slid it into my mouth, and swallowed.

i removed a patch i knew would fill my bloodstream up full of LSD, and with the same skill and expertise i had seen Renesmee use so many times before, placed the tab over the vein in my neck. and i closed my eyes, thinking only of Renesmee, and of her last words to me. _I"'ll be back." _and i let the darkness that dominated my soul claim me. it at least, made a sort of sense which was far more than what could be said of Renesmee's mind, though i suspected that, after i was done with these drugs in the coffin, that i'd have at least the faintest glimmering of how it worked. _"I'll be back."_

.

* * *

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**_Okay this has been either Bad Things, or Hand of Sorrow. by The Grinning Psychopath, and OverzealousGuineapig. Inspired by Valentine Wolfe, the previous holder of the title of The Grinning Psychopath, and my mentor, and by the songs Bad Things, by Jace Everett, Cain by Tiamat, and What have you done Now, an Hand of Sorrow, by Within Temptation. _**

_**NEW AND HRRODIFIC SPEECH BY YOU GUESSED IT, THE GRINNING PSYCHOPATH. MEANT FOR ALL THOSE WHOSE MINDS ARE AS MY OWN, AND ARE CALLED FREAKS AND MONSTERS BY ALL THOSE OTHERS WHO JUST DON'T GET PEOPLE LIKE US YOU KNOW, AS WELL AS THOSE ARROGANT, IGNORANT, ASSHOLES WHO LABEL US AS SUCH.**_

_** When just about everyone first comes on this particular section of twilight, i think that most of them think, that its allll gonna sun and roses, daises and kittens, and all that happy goody goody sorta stuff... hahahhah well they are WRONG arent they hah ah ha ha. they all are given big shocks when they come upon people like us arent they, big great huge SHOCKS to their little systems, when they find Edward going down on Renesmee, and Renesmee going down on Charlie.**_

_** ohoo ha ha ha. they all are given the disgust and horror, that really they deserve for thinking that there arent people like us, people who think that there is no such thing as hate or violence, or wrong in the world, think that people like me defile fanfiction and all its works by posting our stories... well they certainly are WRONG we don't defile it, we don't twist it.. we just show the truth beneath that rose, don't we ShanByStarlight, I'm Alec's Number 1, Raven Jadewolfe, VenomInMyBlood, DementedEvilPixy. lots a angst horrors not meant for people under the proper age of oh about 13 i'd say, in some or all of your fics.**_

_** but really like i was saying, its all just us, showing the truth of the world, the truth, that no matter how hard anyone tries, there will always be people like me, always be people like you, monster writers like us, who while we may not be saints, aren't monsters like they all label us to be, no were just... differetly shaped, and sculpted, with different tastes and purposes, different needs, and wants.. its not our fault we turn out the way we do, its just nature, and if you want to blame someone just blame nature, cause in the end, she is the one to blame for all our differences...**_

_**.

* * *

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**_

_**Any of you who read the previous speech and wish to have your pennames added to the list, and actually have fics to back it up, please send me a private message or two to let me know.**_

_**/**_

_**(OverzealousGuineapig, you wanna leave note, telling how you felt working with me or whatever?)**_

**This had been an experience and a half. From day one I was... enlightened... I guess you could say by the sheer amount of knowledge my dear Grinning Psychopath has on the most unlikely of subjects. It's been a fun ride, a sexy one in which I have had to stop many a time and slip my hand down into my pants. But that's a story for another time. **

**My name comes purely from the fact that rodents are by nature prolific breeders and like to fuck a lot. As do I. It's not quite as in depth as the story behind Valentine Wolfe but I find it suits me well, just as my co-writers name fits him. To a fucking T!**

**It's been real. Thanks for the memories xx**


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